


Darling everything's on fire

by subak_jumokbap



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hunger Games Setting, Drinking, Drunk Kissing, Family Member Death, Hopeful Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Mild Gore, Minor Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun/Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung, Nightmares, Post-Games (Hunger Games), Trauma, this is not that heavy imo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:21:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25652020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/subak_jumokbap/pseuds/subak_jumokbap
Summary: “I see myself holding a knife,” Renjun whispers like he’s confessing his sins.“What else do you see?” Mark urges gently.
Relationships: Huang Ren Jun/Mark Lee
Comments: 19
Kudos: 96





	Darling everything's on fire

**Author's Note:**

> this is a hunger games au and even though this fic is set after the games, the games will still be mentioned in the fic, so know what you are getting into. Pls read the tags before you proceed.

The first time Mark talks to Renjun is at the party Doyoung throws in the Victors’ Village to celebrate Renjun’s victorious return.

Families, friends, stylists, publicists - anyone who had been in the journey with District 7’s past and present victors is there. Mark’s had his fair share of parties, in fact he’s known for throwing a lot of them. He invites anyone who wants to come; he only ever holds parties for the alcohol, never the company. Mark doesn’t know anyone else apart from Doyoung, Jaehyun and Jeno and he doesn’t see the need to change that. Besides, alcohol makes a great companion. With alcohol, he forgets. He’ll take any form of solace he can get from the screaming that invades his head at night.

Here at Renjun’s party, Mark is trying his best to hide from Jeno and Doyoung and anyone else who might come to confiscate his drink. The party’s in Doyoung’s house but the layout is the exact same as his own. While everyone is occupied with toasting and sharing stories about their time in the Capitol or discussing the latest trends he could never understand, Mark sneaks off to the second floor and locks himself in Doyoung’s walk-in closet. He doesn't reach for the lights lest anyone finds him. He walks backwards, deeper into the closet in the dark, his eyes watching the shadows outside from the horizontal gaps of the closet door. The back of his knees knocs into something and that _something_ lets out a groan. The drink in his hand swishes and drips over his fingers. Mark turns around.

It’s Renjun.

“Get your own closet to hide in,” Renjun mumbles annoyedly. He’s intoxicated, just like Mark is. Mark can’t help but laugh at the situation. The first time he ever gets to really meet Renjun - and he’s imagined it a lot in his head - this is how it happens. Like some sick joke.

Mark tries to shift away but the closet isn’t large, it has just enough space for one person to walk five steps in and then out. The clothes hang in two neat rows on each side, one at the top, one at the bottom. Below the bottom rows is an array of shoes Mark has never seen Doyoung wear. Sandwiched right in the middle of the room between the rows of clothes is a display case for belts and accessories. Right in front of the display case is a white leather stool - Mark knows it’s white despite the darkness because it’s an exact replica of his own closet - and on the stool sits Renjun, victor of the 71st Hunger Games, the boy Mark fell in love with ever since he was ten.

Mark laughs wryly as he takes in Renjun’s appearance, the alcohol making his mind hazy. His drink in his wine glass spills again as he squeezes next to Renjun on the stool. Renjun groans, clearly unhappy with how they’re shoulder to shoulder in a cramped space. They both shift as much as they can to adjust into more accommodating positions but there’s only so much space they can put between themselves in a tiny walk-in closet. Renjun unexpectedly steals the drink from Mark’s hand and downs what’s left of it. He smashes the glass onto the floor to Mark’s complete amusement. As far as first _real_ impressions go, they’re both doing horribly.

“You drink too much.”

Perfect. The first few words Renjun speaks to him are to nag him about his drinking habits. But Mark can’t be any less bothered. He’s mastered the art of tuning out noise on his alcohol consumption, credits to Doyoung and Jeno both.

Mark’s words are slurred when they roll off his tongue. “What’s it to you?”

Renjun side glances him, distaste evident in the furrow of his brows. “You’re so pathetic. Drowning yourself in your own misery like you’re a pity party - wasting your life away like this! You could choose to do so many other things with all your wealth, and yet this is how you choose to spend your life.”

Everyone in District 7 knows of Mark’s liking for parties, booze and more booze from the amount of parties he throws. Mark’s not an alcoholic, he doesn’t drink to that extent, but he appreciates the bliss that alcohol brings more than the average person. It seems that Renjun is as aware of this as the rest of the district. But Renjun, of all people, shouldn’t be judging him. If anything, Renjun should understand him better than anyone else. They both share more in common than what others know.

Mark meets Renjun’s eyes lazily, his tone defensive when he speaks. “You’ve been through the games. Look me in the eyes and tell me you’re not as dead inside as the people you’ve killed.” Mark’s gaze doesn’t falter as he takes Renjun in. Renjun doesn’t speak, just keeps his head down while Mark continues determinedly. “You’ve seen it, you know what it’s like. So don’t go telling me how to live my life unless you can help me bring back the lives I’ve killed.”

Mark hears Renjun’s shaky intake of breath. When Renjun brings his head up to meet his eyes again, Mark doesn’t see the detest or criticism that flowed with his voice before. In fact his eyes shake and Mark knows this look on Renjun’s face all too well because he’s been there before. Renjun is afraid. He's afraid that what Mark speaks is the truth, that there’s no more life inside him despite being the sole survivor among the 24 tributes.

“You’re behaving exactly how the Capitol wants you to,” Renjun accuses, but the waver in his voice gives his fears away.

Renjun is scared and Mark’s conscience pricks him. He hadn’t meant to lash out nor to scare Renjun, especially not when it’s the night celebrating Renjun’s immunity granted by the Capitol - the promise of a lifetime of richness and luxuries to compensate for messing you up far beyond what’s morally decent. But the Capitol never had morals to begin with and Mark is tired of being mad at them.

Mark sighs and calls Renjun’s name quietly. He doesn’t like how timid Renjun looks. Guilt stirs in the pit of his stomach for making Renjun feel that way. Renjun’s shoulders are tensed, and although deliberately concealed, Mark can see that his eyes are pleading for help. He doesn’t think Renjun deserves this life, to slowly decay inside while the Capitol decorates him with extravagance and tries to make it look desirable. Desirable - the life of a victor. No, Mark thinks the life of a victor is a fucking joke. Renjun doesn’t deserve such horridness but there’s nothing he can do to assure Renjun that he’ll be fine. Yet he never wants to see Renjun this afraid.

He takes a finger and hesitantly uses the back of it to stroke down Renjun’s cheek. Renjun watches him with careful eyes. Renjun smells like floral perfume, the intoxicating kind, the kind the people in the Capitol wear. Mark doesn’t like it at all. It’s heavy and suffocating and the scent of something so lurid shouldn’t be the trace that Renjun leaves wherever he goes. Renjun should smell like fresh grass, like pages in a book, like the earth after being rained on the whole afternoon. Even the ridiculous fancy suit Renjun’s wearing doesn’t fit him at all - they had dressed him up into what they want him to be. Mark has a feeling Renjun already understands this. But Renjun is still ever so breathtaking in Mark’s eyes, that is one thing they can’t take away no matter whatever absurd get-up they put Renjun in.

Renjun’s hand comes to curl over his finger and Mark thinks Renjun’s going to pull it away from his face. Instead, Renjun relaxes his grip gradually and lets his hand trail down Mark’s own. Before Mark knows it, Renjun’s fingers are playing with the collar of Mark’s shirt and his knuckles keep brushing against Mark’s neck. Renjun is looking everywhere but at him.

“Is this all you’re worth?” Renjun asks, his voice sounding distant, like he’s saying something he hadn't wanted to say, like he’s detached himself in case the answer he gets is not one he likes. Because as much as it is a question to Mark, it’s a question to himself as well. Wondering, if the life the Capitol gifts him for living is worth what he’d done in the games.

Mark turns his head slowly to look at Renjun better, his lips brushing against Renjun’s knuckles. When Renjun raises his eyes to look at him from the shadow of his lashes, Mark thinks Renjun never looked more beautiful. In all his sadness and fears, Renjun still shines silently, dizzyingly. While Mark just looks broken and unfixable, Renjun looks like a mirage. Mark’s been looking at him from a distance for so long, it feels surreal that Renjun is here, with him, and that their fates are twisted in the same sickening way.

Mark traces over Renjun’s cheekbones, a slight shake to his finger when he does. “The Capitol can play me however they want. They owned me the moment my name was picked.”

“They don’t own you,” Renjun says defiantly, his voice hushed and wet. His brows knit further together as he looks into Mark’s eyes. Mark touches Renjun’s jaw tenderly and it eases the tension on Renjun’s face, getting him to relax slowly. Renjun closes his eyes but he still looks like he’s in pain. He shudders out an exhale, leaning into the warmth of Mark’s palm. “You own yourself, they don’t own you.”

“I don’t want to own myself,” Mark whispers. He sees the pain there when Renjun opens his eyes again. Renjun swallows thickly, his fingers nervously sliding through the strands of hair above the nape of Mark’s neck. Mark leans forward slowly and lets their breaths mingle. He hears Renjun’s breath stutter when he angles Renjun closer using the hand he has on Renjun’s jaw. His eyes flit down to Renjun’s lips. “I never liked myself since the games.”

Renjun surges forward and kisses him fiercely, his hands pulling Mark down and closer. Mark cups his face with trembling hands, but he returns the kiss hotly, gasping when he tongues between Renjun’s lips and finds them already parted for him. They’re both desperate for something, the way Renjun’s hands keep raking his shoulders and Mark’s hands travel down Renjun’s body to squeeze his waist. Mark teases the skin on Renjun’s hip when his fingers slip in beneath Renjun’s shirt. Renjun’s whimper dies in his throat when Mark bites and sucks his lower lip. Renjun climbs over him to straddle him against the display case. When he drops his head to bite at the skin of Renjun’s collarbone, he feels Renjun’s hips stutter forward. Renjun tugs his hair to bring him up into a rough kiss and he pants into Renjun’s mouth. Everything is hot and dizzying.

Renjun pulls away slowly, holding Mark by his shoulders. Mark thinks it’s all ending too fast but Renjun starts tracing kisses on his jaw. Renjun bites the juncture between his shoulder and his neck and he muffles a sound, wrecked, when Renjun leaves a mark there and licks it over. He brings Renjun into an unexpectedly tender kiss after that, holding Renjun gently by his waist. Renjun kisses him slow and it feels like he’s in a dream when Renjun sighs into it. But the sigh is the one that wakes Renjun up, Renjun tenses all of a sudden and Mark knows Renjun is going to leave. He doesn’t hold Renjun back when Renjun scrambles off his lap.

“I should leave. I don’t know what I’m doing,” Renjun mumbles out, refusing to meet Mark’s eyes. He leaves with his arms hugging his own torso tightly, as if doing that would keep himself together. 

Mark’s left to sit alone in the darkness, slumped against the display case, feeling the ghost of Renjun’s touches and Renjun’s lips linger over his skin. Mark wants to tell Renjun that it’s okay - it’s okay to not know what he’s doing, because Mark hasn’t gotten a clue what he’s doing anymore either.

Mark’s memories of Renjun are like snapshots in his head. They play themselves like a montage every time he sees Renjun’s face. The first time he met Renjun was when he was ten, which meant that Renjun was only nine. Nine-year-old Renjun was a scrawny boy dressed in clothes that were too big just so he could grow into them. His hair fell into his face and there were scratches on his elbows. Just like Mark, he had red-rimmed eyes and there was dirt on his face except for where the tears had washed it away. They had both been standing at the forest entrance, two rows of bodies laid neatly before them. A piece of white cloth was draped over every single one of the bodies. Apparently those bodies were the ones that weren’t devastated enough to look at. Mark remembers thinking that he and Renjun must have been the only children there. But Mark had to be there, he couldn’t let his mother come knowing her weak heart wouldn’t be able to handle so much grief and horror. He remembers wondering what Renjun’s story was that warranted him there instead of his mother. He also remembers how the people there had looked at them - melancholic eyes filled with sorrow and regret. He didn’t like it, being watched like that. He remembers turning his head away.

He started from one end, lifting the cloths one by one. Mark thought they were hideous to look at, yet those were the ones that had suffered the least. An accident at work, Mark heard one of the nurses explain. A cigarette fire that went out of control and took hours to put out. Very unfortunate, she said, but for a district that specialises in lumber, the risk was always there. Mark remembers not liking the whispers, nor the muffled sobbing, nor the endless wailings around him. He blocked them out, wondered if Renjun felt the same. He turned his head to watch Renjun standing at the other end of the row. Quietly, Renjun went through the bodies, lifting, checking, draping the cloths back over the faces. Having sensed Mark’s gaze on him, Renjun turned his head and their eyes met for the first time. The first snapshot Mark took of Renjun: Renjun’s body bent over dead ones, empty eyes staring straight at the voidness of Mark’s own. For that moment their eyes were locked, Mark had wordlessly asked, _You too?_ Renjun only swallowed and tore his gaze away. But his eyes had flickered to Mark immediately after, just once, and then never again. Mark heard his unspoken answer. _Me too._

Mark had realised then that there was something deep and intricate, torturous even, about the fact that the first things you learn about a stranger is that you share the same twisted fate and ugly misery. Mark just didn’t know then, how eerily similar their fates were going to be.

Mark watched on as Renjun raised his hand in the air. A nurse with a clipboard approached him.

With the voice of a boy, Renjun pointed at the body in front of him and said, “This one’s my father.”

Mark did the same two bodies later.

The next snapshot Mark had gotten of Renjun was in school; Renjun had been sitting alone in an empty classroom, writing quietly in his notebook. Mark had turned his head to look in just as he walked by with Jeno. He can still remember how serene Renjun had looked in the middle of the simplicity. He didn’t understand why the scene painted itself so tranquil to him, it was like the air around Renjun seemed remarkably still that even breathing out of rhythm would have caused it to shatter. Mark had wanted to keep on looking. He was never one to pay attention to anyone in school, partly the reason why he hadn’t been aware of Renjun’s presence before. But after seeing Renjun at the forest entrance and now being wholly captivated by Renjun’s mere presence, Mark had wanted nothing more but to know Renjun. And he started by asking Jeno if Jeno knew Renjun’s name.

They don’t talk about it. The kiss at the night of Renjun’s party. Renjun goes about his days hardly acknowledging Mark at all. All Mark gets are hardened gazes and curt sentences. Apart from Mark, Renjun seems to talk fine with everyone else. The lot of them spend a lot of time together, just because. They don’t have anyone else. Doyoung and his boyfriend Jaehyun drop by Mark’s house a few days a week to see that he’s still functioning. Jeno comes by to talk when the sun has retreated for rest and he’s covered in sweat from hacking away at pine trees. Mark appreciates their care but he also knows there’s an ulterior motive to their visits - to secretly check that he hadn’t smuggled more booze than they’d agreed to let him have. Mark likes them enough, they remind him what a family feels like. And Renjun… Renjun doesn’t really try to have anything to do with him. Renjun mostly stays indoors and most news Mark hears about him are when Doyoung or Jaehyun comes to visit. But Mark does see Renjun a lot at breakfast; they all have breakfast together with Renjun’s family on most days because Renjun’s mom likes to feed them. While everyone else is exchanging friendly conversations over breakfast, Mark and Renjun are busy trying to pretend the other doesn’t exist. Mark likes to think, however, that Renjun stares at him when he isn’t looking, and he thinks he might be right every time he catches Renjun turning his head away.

They don’t talk about it and Doyoung tells Mark to fix whatever his shit is with Renjun because he’s tired of watching them act like strangers when they’re supposed to be a team. District 7’s victors, a family of monsters, they’re all what each other has. Doyoung doesn’t know about the kiss, and Doyoung most definitely doesn’t know that they kiss a lot more after that first one. Mark and Renjun in the day are different from the Mark and Renjun at night. Nights are meant for secrets, after all.

Whenever Mark throws a party, someone always drags Renjun down and at some point in the night, they’d both be locked away in the bathroom, or on the balcony or in Mark’s room, kissing, trading breaths, spilling secrets. Mark learns Renjun has nightmares at night. Mark kisses him, shares that he has them too. Renjun kisses him back. Mark tells Renjun how he’d lost his mom. Renjun unbuttons his shirt, kisses his collarbone and says he knows. Says everyone heard him when he cried but he tells Mark that it’s okay. So Mark kisses him. Sometimes Mark cries when they kiss, sometimes Renjun does. They kiss roughly, desperately, wretchedly. But every single time before morning comes, Renjun leaves and when morning comes, they don’t talk about it. Mark watches Renjun at breakfast, eyes the bruise he knows he had left on Renjun’s shoulder under his shirt. Renjun watches him too, secretly, silently, but they don’t talk. They don’t have nice things to talk about in front of other people. They find comfort in sharing each other’s pain. Every time Mark sees that certain look in Renjun’s eyes, it makes Mark want to kiss him and tell him it’s okay.

But the thing is, Mark always wants to kiss him, no matter whether it is day or night, or whether they are victors of a ruthless game or scared teenage boys that were picked as tributes. Mark always wants to kiss him. But Renjun doesn’t know that.

Mark has accumulated a few snapshots in his head of Renjun back when they were still in school. Snapshots of Renjun in classrooms, reading alone by a tree, sitting on a bench watching his younger brother run around with the other kids. Mark remembers being fifteen and Renjun, fourteen. Mark remembers watching Renjun a lot. He remembers how Renjun didn’t talk to people much. Renjun only ever talked to Donghyuck, the kid whose mother baked and sold bread. Mark didn’t judge him for not wanting to talk to the other kids. He only ever talked to Jeno himself.

Mark likes the snapshot he has of Renjun at their school’s sports event. It was a small school thing at the field behind their school building where the grass was never trimmed and the ground was still muddy from the previous day’s rain. Mark had taken part in a race. He was known for being one of the fastest runners, if not, the fastest. To no one’s surprise, he won first place and even had the luxury to look back once he’d crossed the finishing line, watching as the other kids sprinted the last bit of distance. He got pats on his back, shakes of his hand. _If you were in the games, you'd definitely make it!_ He received a lot of those, spoken as a compliment, a praise, an acknowledgement of talent. But they didn’t sound like that him. No, they sounded like curses to his ears. He didn't even want to think of what it would be like if he were in the games. He had only hoped that his luck would hold on for a few more years and he wouldn’t have to worry about his name getting picked again.

Renjun ran in a race as well. Like always, Mark watched him. The snapshot Mark took of Renjun that day was of the way Renjun had looked sprinting; his hair swept back by the wind and his cheeks a healthy shade of pink. He looked like a winner and he came out of the race as one. He was fast, but he was also calculative. He was always watching everything around him. He never let anyone catch up to him. He was careful, yet he was never aware of how Mark was always watching him. That, or he never made any indication to show that he knew. But their eyes did meet occasionally whenever Renjun’s gaze roamed and momentarily landed on Mark.

Mark watched as Renjun received a similar celebration to the one he got. A pat on Renjun’s back, a cheer of his name. _You’d win if you were in the games!_ Mark didn't know who the kids congratulating him were, and he’s pretty sure Renjun didn't either. But they did know each other, albeit indirectly. When Renjun caught his eyes as he walked back to the side of the field, Renjun seemed to say, _You too? You hear them as curses too?_ Mark had met his gaze steadily. He almost nodded his head. _Yeah, me too,_ his eyes spoke for him. Renjun’s eyes lingered on him for a second more before he tore his gaze away. Mark watched Renjun sit himself back on the grass and when Renjun didn’t meet his eyes any more after that, he turned his head away as well and continued pretending to listen to Jeno talk.

Mark had thought he was going to get his last snapshot of Renjun when he was eighteen and standing on the platform in front of the Justice Building. The last snapshot Mark thought he was ever going to have looked like this: Renjun in the middle of the crowd, in his neat white shirt and his hair combed away from his face. He was looking up at Mark, his gaze steady. And despite the hundreds of faces there, Mark chose to look back at him. Unlike all the others, Renjun didn’t look relieved that it wasn’t him who was standing up there nor terrified for Mark’s fate. It was a silent and sharp stare that Mark hadn’t known how to read. But Renjun kept on looking at him so Mark kept on looking back. It provided the perfect distraction for him from his mother whom Jeno was comforting in an embrace. Jeno had kept her head turned away from the stage. Mark remembers tuning out her wailing into a faint white noise.

While everything and nothing passed through his mind, someone beside him held his hand and raised his arm, announced him a tribute for the 70th Hunger Games. Not a single cheer was made. Mark felt like he was going to be sick. No one was telling him he was going to win the games like how they did back in school.

The Peacekeepers brought him off the stage and just before he headed into the Justice Building, he caught Renjun moving suddenly through the crowd. It was as if Renjun was trying to get to him. He watched confusedly, he didn’t understand why Renjun would. But Renjun was frantic in his movements and Mark knew this was his last chance to do _anything_. His heart raced when their eyes met and he saw the same kind of frenzy that was in Renjun’s movements in Renjun’s eyes. He tried to break free but the Peacekeepers were stronger. He thought he heard Renjun call out his name, he wasn’t sure, but he was forcefully yanked away before he could even respond. He couldn’t get another glimpse no matter how hard he tried to twist himself free. He was forced into the Justice Building and the doors slammed loudly behind him. And that was it. He was never going to see Renjun again. He was going to die and his feelings for Renjun would die with him.

When they allowed him to say goodbye, he hugged his mother for the longest time until they took her away.

“Bleed them dry,” Jeno had joked when he came to bid Mark goodbye. Jeno’s eyes were red, he must have wiped his tears before he entered the room. Jeno held him tightly and Mark had wished the embrace would numb him. It didn’t, of course it didn’t. “If you’re going to die make sure you suck all the wealth out of them.”

Mark laughed but it was choked. He clung tightly to Jeno’s back. “Take care of my mom.” He heard Jeno disguise a sob into a cough. Mark’s breath trembled when he exhaled. “Don’t let her watch the games. Please.”

Mark returned to District 7 as a victor, against all odds. It made Mark laugh. It was taunting and mocking; against all odds, but achieved at all cost. It costed Mark the person he was. He had become the Capitol’s new puppet, he was even standing on stage like how they had directed him to: legs together, chest out. He was dressed to the nines, he was probably more expensive than everyone in the district combined. But this wasn’t him; his eyes were void and his words weren’t his. He wanted to get off stage terribly, go back to his home and sleep it all away. But it was there up on stage that he got another snapshot of Renjun. A montage of all the snapshots he’d collected so far played in his head when his eyes landed on Renjun’s face. Renjun was standing there in the crowd again just like before. But unlike that time, Renjun took one look at him and just as quickly, looked away.

A bitter laugh bubbled and brewed in his throat and it stayed there like poison. Was he that unbearable to look at? Did he look like a monster in Renjun’s eyes? Even if he did, no one could possibly hate him more than himself. The lives of so many stolen by his own hands. That was what it costed to have the odds in his favour. He searched the crowd for Jeno and his mother. He saw Jeno first, a smile on Jeno’s face while Jeno watched him. But his smile looked off, the lines on his face were all wrong. There was a slight tremble to his lips and barely any light in his eyes. It was a pained smile, broken. Something was wrong. Mark’s heart slammed against his ribcage as he swept through the entire crowd with his eyes. Where was his mother?

It was like someone had poured a bucket of ice cold water over him. He ran down the stage in a mad frenzy, ignoring Doyoung’s voice crackling in his earpiece. He shoved his way through the Peacekeepers, yanking himself free from their grip. No one from the crowd dared to block his way. He charged madly over to Jeno, fear burning in his chest. His heart was thudding so loudly he couldn't hear anything else.

He needed to see his mother.

He clutched onto Jeno’s forearms desperately, his nails digging painfully into Jeno’s skin. His legs buckled beneath him and he would have collapsed if it weren’t for Jeno holding him up. He desperately searched Jeno’s eyes, demanded for an answer Jeno wouldn’t tell him. Panic was entwined with his voice when his yells tore through the entire crowd. Tears rolled hotly down his cheeks. No one else made a sound and his sobs echoed hauntingly through the silence. “Jeno, where is she? I told you to look after her! Jeno!” He cried distraughtly, his gaze shaking and blurry through his tears. “Where is my mom? Jeno, please! Tell me where she is!”

Jeno and Doyoung pulled him away from the hundreds of eyes that were watching him. Jeno brought him to a small peaceful hill he knew only too well. It was where his father’s body was buried, and now next to it, his mother. Mark didn't think he could ever get up from where he was kneeling before their graves.

“She watched the games even though I tried to stop her. When she saw you jump off that cliff, her heart gave out and we couldn’t - I’m sorry, I tried to stop her I really did-”

Mark shook his head, his tears an endless stream down his cheeks. It wasn’t Jeno’s fault. It was such a cruel joke how twisted his fate was. He came home a victor, but there was no home for him in District 7 anymore.

Renjun’s younger brother, Chenle, comes knocking on Mark’s door in the dead of the night. He looks distressed and a feeling of unease sits in Mark’s stomach. Chenle says he doesn’t know where Renjun is. He tells Mark he heard the sound of the front door closing while he was asleep and when he got to Renjun’s room to check on him, Renjun was already gone. Mark knows Renjun couldn't have ran away, he isn’t one to leave his family behind which only tells him that Renjun must be wandering around. He tells Chenle not to worry and to stay home with his mother. He promises to bring Renjun back safely. He quickly throws on a coat and starts a search throughout the entire Victors’ Village, even searching through all the empty houses. Renjun isn’t in any of them. It’s chilly out, the air is sharp and it’s pitch black everywhere except for where Mark shines his torch. Mark thinks hard of a place Renjun could have possibly gone to. He wonders if Renjun went back to his old home but a thought comes to his head and he thinks he knows where Renjun might be. He heads towards the woods.

Renjun’s mentioned it once before in passing, in a ramble when Mark was marking the base of his neck with tiny bruises. But Mark had been listening. Mark always does, he notes even the littlest things Renjun says. Renjun had said that he likes to go to the woods when he wants to be alone sometimes.

He finds Renjun bundled up in a thick coat, sitting on a flat wide rock in front of a cluster of birch trees. His hair shines under the moon and his head is tilted up to look at it. Mark advances cautiously, not wanting to abruptly announce his presence but the dead leaves rustle under his feet and Renjun snaps his head back so quickly that Mark feels sorry. Renjun’s already up on his feet and backing away.

Mark puts his hands up like he’s been caught. “It’s just me.”

Renjun’s face is decorated with shadows and he’s half hidden in the darkness. Renjun’s eyes slowly take him in and Renjun relaxes when he sees no danger. Mark sees the way Renjun’s shoulders sag. Renjun breathes out, sits back down on the rock. He leaves enough space beside him.

Mark approaches and tentatively occupies the space Renjun’s left for him. “The nightmares again?”

Renjun’s voice is rough. “They won't stop.”

“They never do,” Mark says, a sense of acceptance in his tone. It’s been over a year. Mark’s still haunted by the memories of the games whenever he closes his eyes. Doyoung, who was victor five years ago, still gets them too.

“I keep screaming in my sleep and it always wakes my family up. Chenle comes to me each time, he lies in my bed and asks me what’s wrong.” Renjun shakes his head and hangs it low. “I can’t tell him. I can’t tell him how I still see their lifeless eyes, how I still hear their screams. The way they looked at me before I -” Renjun exhales heavily. He looks at his own hands. His voice becomes faded and hushed. “In my dreams, I can never wash their blood off my hands.”

It hurts to hear, hurts even more because Mark can relate. “Then tell me,” Mark says. He reaches for Renjun’s hand and Renjun doesn’t put up any resistance. Mark caresses his knuckles gingerly. “I know what it’s like, you can tell me.”

Renjun looks at him and laughs emptily. “That’s just torturing you.”

Mark shrugs a shoulder, tries for a smile. “It’s nothing more than what I’ve already seen. The things in the games. My dad’s burnt face. It’s been so long yet they never go away. I don’t know if they ever will. But if it helps you sleep better at night to share what you see when you close your eyes, you can tell them to me.”

Renjun cups Mark’s face, his eyes search Mark’s. Renjun’s own look like a vast ocean painted sad and Mark’s chest hollows looking at it.

“I see myself holding a knife,” Renjun whispers like he’s confessing his sins.

“What else do you see?” Mark urges gently.

Renjun’s eyes start to water, like he hadn’t expected Mark to want to hear more. He’s moved but also frightened that there’s someone who’s willing to listen. Because who would? But Mark knows what it’s like to hate himself, he doesn’t want Renjun to feel that way. He cards his fingers through Renjun’s hair to calm him.

“I see them chasing after me with madness in their eyes. And I see their blood splattering all over me.”

Renjun looks at Mark, waits to see how Mark would despise him or be afraid of him. Instead, Mark slides his hand to Renjun’s nape, gently caressing his neck. “It’s okay. I see them too. You’re safe now. You don’t have to do those things anymore.” Mark gazes into Renjun’s eyes, earnest when he speaks again. “You’re not any less human than you were before.”

A sob breaks through Renjun’s throat and Renjun surges forward to kiss him. He holds Renjun by his nape and kisses him soft, slow. Renjun parts his lips and lets Mark in and Mark gets a taste of Renjun, familiar and calming. Mark kisses Renjun the way he wants Renjun to feel - safe, heard, seen, loved for all that he is. They kiss languidly while the sun slowly breaks through the horizon. After, Mark wraps an arm round Renjun’s shoulder and Renjun leans into him while they quietly watch as the sun paints the sky a shade of blue and orange, pink and purple shyly blending in with soft streaks. When Renjun turns to him, he sees Renjun drowned in gold and he wonders if that’s how Renjun sees him too. Renjun inches towards him slowly and then kisses him again, taking his time to feel Mark’s lips against his own. Mark realises it’s the first kiss they ever shared in daylight.

When Mark brings them home, Renjun doesn’t let go of his hand until they’re at the door of his house.

Mark joins Renjun’s family for breakfast upon Renjun’s mother’s insistence and he watches fondly as Renjun gets locked in a fiery hug from Chenle. Renjun gives him a small smile when their eyes meet. When Renjun slips into the seat beside him, Renjun locks their ankles together. And when Mark rests a hand on his thigh, Renjun takes it and laces their fingers like a promise.

Mark remembers the day of Renjun’s reaping as clearly as he remembers his own.

After being crowned victor, Mark had holed himself up in his house, getting drunk occasionally and throwing parties until the Peacekeepers would show up and tell him it wasn’t allowed. He didn’t care. The Capitol granted him immunity. There’s no one left he loved for them to kill. He boldly continued doing whatever he wanted.

He remembers Doyoung being pissed at him for being hungover and dragging him out of the house one particular day, claiming that it was mandatory. It was that time of the year again. Another reaping was taking place.

Standing with the crowd this time instead of in front of the Justice Building, Mark remembers feeling nauseous when the names of the two tributes were announced. The cruelest snapshot of Renjun he ever has happened on that day. The day played out like an exact copy of a year ago, only that now Mark’s and Renjun’s roles were reversed. Mark stood in the crowd while Renjun stood on stage, upright, a fearless facade on his face. He looked charismatic, confident even but Mark knew what it was like to stand up there thinking about how your family was going to survive without you. Mark didn’t buy Renjun’s facade at all, he knew with absolute certainty that fear was eating away in Renjun’s chest. Mark relived it watching him. Renjun met his eyes and Mark found himself not thinking, simply moving and elbowing through the crowd to walk closer to the stage. There was a sinister laugh in Renjun’s eyes. Mark had never seen Renjun look that way.

Everything felt like a joke. Why was it that their lives were always an endless loop of ‘ _You too?'_? It was sick. It made Mark mad. When Renjun tore his gaze away, looked up to the sky and closed his eyes, Mark heard his answer. _Me too._ Mark had wished it weren’t so.

As it was with Mark, Doyoung became Renjun’s mentor. The memories of the games were still too fresh in Mark’s mind for him to willingly mentor anyone. He stayed home while Doyoung accompanied Renjun to the Capitol and taught him how to survive. Mark didn’t know how he would face Renjun anyway. They never talked but ever since Mark came home, Renjun had looked at him differently, despicably.

Against all odds, the same fucking joke over and over again, Renjun returned as victor.

It was almost the exact same thing as Mark’s return. Capitol’s puppet, elegant suit, barren eyes, but there was something new about Renjun. There was a bright red scar running down his left arm. Mark had watched the games, he’d seen how Renjun had gotten it from tussling with a tribute with a dagger in her fist. The dagger dug into his bicep and it dragged down his arm but Renjun had always been fast. He’d snatched the dagger away and slit the tribute’s throat with it. Mark saw how Renjun spent a great deal of time washing his hands in the river after even though the blood had washed off fairly easily. Mark knew no amount of scrubbing could get Renjun back the skin of the person he was before.

Mark stared at Renjun, watched the emptiness in his eyes. _You’re a monster now._

Renjun stared back. _You too?_

Their lives were nothing more than specks of dust to the Capitol. _Me too._

They talk a lot more now after the incident in the woods and everyone is delighted with how they’re exchanging more than five sentences a day. They don’t make a show that they’re a little bit more than friendly; they don’t really want to deal with all the reactions and questions. They never liked attention. Most times whenever people are around, they try to keep it subtle. During breakfasts Renjun would give Mark’s hand a small squeeze whenever they pass each other. When no one was looking, Mark would sneak a kiss on Renjun’s neck.

But the others found out eventually, Mark and Renjun weren’t exactly putting in their best effort to hide anything. Chenle found them out when he caught Renjun kissing Mark’s cheek when Renjun had walked Mark to the door after breakfast one morning. He had balked and choked on his own toast. Doyoung, Jaehyun and Jeno found out separately but in the same way. They noticed that Mark had barely touched his alcohol supply and had notably cut down on the parties. Renjun was going out of the house a lot more too. Whenever Renjun was gone, Mark would be gone as well. It didn’t take a genius to piece it all together. Jeno tells Mark he’s happy for him, and Doyoung and Jaehyun are just glad they don’t actually want to kill each other.

Spending time with Renjun is really nice. Mark learns more about Renjun each day and Renjun teaches him things too. Things like how to cook a proper meal and not just heat meat over a fire and call it lunch.

“You’re going to burn the eggs!” Renjun exclaims in horror, snatching the spatula from Mark’s hand and flipping them from the pan onto a plate. He turns off the stove and turns to give Mark a reprimanding glare. “This is why I told you to watch them.”

Mark has the decency to feel guilty and to wipe away the frown on Renjun’s face, he pulls Renjun away from the stove by his waist. Renjun yields too easily and Mark likes how Renjun never really gets angry at him. “It’s not as easy as I thought it would be,” Mark mumbles. He leans in, the sun streaming in from the window behind him casts a shadow of his face on Renjun’s.

Renjun leans in too, his face inching closer. “All you had to do was just watch them.”

Their lips ghost over each other. “It’s so easy to forget about them.”

Mark closes in, kissing the corner of Renjun’s mouth. Renjun wraps his arms round Mark’s neck and turns his face so that Mark kisses his lips instead. He contently welcomes the feeling of Mark’s lips against his. Mark catches Renjun’s bottom lip between his own and he tugs. Renjun kisses him a little fiercer. Renjun spreads his legs a bit wider, allowing Mark to come in, Mark’s thigh nestled between his. It’s gratifying, the heat of their bodies pressed together. They kiss lazily, Mark’s hands hugging loosely around Renjun’s waist. Renjun’s tongue explores his mouth, licking the roof of it wickedly, causing a low moan to sound at the back of Mark’s throat.

“Ahem.”

Renjun pulls away, startled at the voice but Mark breathes him in, eyes closed, a firm hand on his waist to stop him from moving even a step away. Renjun pats his shoulder gently to let him know that they aren’t alone. Mark turns his head to find Doyoung by the kitchen counter, watching them.

“I still have yet to get used to this. But I’m glad the whole tension between you two got resolved. All that staring at each other was going to make me poke your eyes out.”

Renjun raises his eyebrows in agreement and moves forward to take the letter Doyoung flaunts in his hand. Mark playfully tugs Renjun back by crossing his arms in front of Renjun’s stomach. Renjun bumps back into his chest and a surprised laugh escapes him.

“What’s up with you?” Renjun mutters with a soft smile, turning his head sideways to look at Mark’s face. Mark doesn’t answer, he just likes Renjun being in his arms. He simply buries his nose into Renjun’s hair, getting a whiff of lavender and mint and he loves it. He kisses the back of Renjun’s head. Leaving one hand still wrapped around Renjun’s stomach, Mark frees the other to stretch for the card in Doyoung’s hand. Renjun stays pliant in his hold.

Doyoung just eyes them the whole time like he’s in some freaky dream. He points at them from top to bottom with his index finger. “This is really weird to see.”

“Why are you here?” Mark asks, his head above Renjun’s shoulder, holding the card in front of them both for them to read. They take a few moments to process the content of the card and Renjun lets out a gasp when he’s done.

“Doyoung,” Renjun mutters, looking up to meet Doyoung’s eyes. Mark wonders how he could have missed the glow around Doyoung and how bright and clear his eyes sparkle.

“Celebration my house tonight, I want to see you two there.”

“Doyoung, oh my god,” Renjun lurches forward and Mark releases him so he can envelope Doyoung in a hug.

Mark gives Doyoung a smile. “Congratulations.” When Renjun lets go, Mark comes forward to give Doyoung a hug too. Doyoung welcomes it appreciatively. “I’m so happy for you both.”

Renjun invites Doyoung to join them for lunch but Doyoung declines, claiming he doesn’t want to see anything more than what he already has. Doyoung leaves them to their own affairs, reminding them not to be late for the party just before he walks out the door.

Doyoung and Jaehyun are getting engaged. Renjun loves the idea of it. He thinks there’s no better way to say you’re living well in this wreckage of a world by living it happily, like a _fuck you_ back to the universe for putting them in this wretched mess. Mark and Renjun do end up coming late to the party but they manage to be there in time to catch Doyoung blushing while everyone demands him to show off his engagement ring. Mark doesn’t think he’s ever seen Doyoung smile like that.

Renjun slips his hand into Mark’s as they watch Doyoung and Jaehyun smile at each other like they’re the only ones there. Mark curls his fingers around Renjun’s and doesn’t let go the entire night.

It’s become routine now. At the start, Renjun would knock on Mark’s door only when night has fallen. Mark would pretend that he hadn’t been waiting and bring Renjun up to his room. Renjun would fall asleep on his chest, their hands intertwined above Mark’s stomach. Now that a year has passed and they’re more than comfortable around each other, Renjun just spends the evening there and welcomes himself under Mark’s blanket when he’s sleepy. Renjun had told Mark one night, when they were snuggled in bed and Mark had been peppering kisses all over his shoulders, that he sleeps better when Mark is with him. Chenle doesn’t have to wake to him screaming anymore. On some bad nights however, the nightmares and the screaming would return and Renjun would jolt awake, frantic, hands grasping the bedsheet anxiously. Mark would pull him gently back to bed, finger through his hair and rub his arms soothingly. Renjun would clench and unclench Mark’s shirt and Mark would always wait for Renjun’s breathing to steady. Sometimes, Renjun tells him what he sees. Sometimes after the nightmares they don’t go back to sleep, sometimes Renjun kisses him for a really long time and Mark holds him tender, kisses him back till they get breathless and their lips, swollen. And he continues kissing Renjun even then. On really, really bad nights, Mark wakes up screaming and crying. And Renjun would be there, kissing his hair, his temples, telling him he’s safe. And Renjun would pull his head towards his chest and hum him to sleep.

And now with Renjun over him, sitting over his lap and kissing him sweetly, Mark hopes it’ll be a peaceful night of sleep. He yields easily under Renjun’s lips, rubbing circles at the side of Renjun’s waist. He relishes in the way Renjun kisses him deeper and the way Renjun’s hips roll against him, eliciting friction between them. Mark swallows his moans, tastes the strawberries Renjun had after dinner on his tongue. Renjun’s hips stutter when Mark’s palm brushes across his ribcage and Mark likes how they both quickly become needy for each other’s touch and kisses. But Mark takes his time to lick over Renjun’s lips, savouring the swell of them, how they feel against his own.

“I’ve liked you for the longest time. I was always watching you, I don’t think I’ve ever told you.”

Renjun hums, lands a peck at the corner of his mouth. “I did too. You should have told me.”

“I couldn’t,” Mark murmurs. “Not until I was sure your name wouldn’t be called. But I was reaped as tribute before it could happen, and when I saw you got reaped, I -”

“Let’s not talk about that,” Renjun whispers, the pain in his voice making it sound strained. So Mark kisses him instead. Mark tongues past Renjun’s lips and adjusts Renjun on his lap such that Renjun’s straddling him. Mark kisses Renjun passionately, desire rousing in his stomach when Renjun presses closer, the warmth between them making him heady. Mark bites Renjun’s shoulder when his shirt slips down and kisses it tenderly after. Heat pools between them and when Renjun grinds against him, Mark’s breath catches in his throat. Mark pulls Renjun’s shirt off of him and all their other clothes come off quickly after. Renjun is quiet, but he whimpers and squirms under Mark’s touches, his pants loud only when he tucks his head into Mark’s neck. Mark kisses all over his skin, holds him near and whispers sweet nothings to him. When they’re both spent and quiet after, Renjun lies over his chest and Mark hugs him while he falls asleep peacefully in his arms.

Mark lays silently as Renjun’s warmth and scent washes over him. He closes his eyes and wishes for another peaceful night tomorrow. Just like what he did yesterday. And tomorrow night, he’ll do the same. Sleep comes eventually and cradles him in her arms.

Plenty of clouds are cruising above them in the sky and the sun’s rays filter through, reaching them at just the perfect amount of warmth. A slight breeze sings to keep both him and Renjun company. There are only yards and yards of wild uncut grass around them with pretty wildflowers dotting all over the fields. Mark watches their tiny petals dance with the wind. The grass smells like summertime and the air tastes cleaner and fresher than back at the Victors’ Village. Whenever a train whizzes by, the barbed fence separating them from it rattles temperamentally. It’s the perfect little afternoon.

Renjun likes watching the tracks. And Mark likes watching him. Renjun’s in a soft yellow polo shirt and white trousers and he blends in naturally with the picturesque scenery. His hair fans out prettily where his head lies on top of Mark’s arm. Mark uses his free hand to trace down Renjun’s scar that runs from his bicep to the mid of his forearm, pink and bumpy against Mark’s finger. Renjun used to be conscious of how Mark always touches it, but Mark had slowly coaxed him out of that insecurity. Now Renjun lets Mark do it freely, comfortable with the feel of Mark’s finger running along the scar down his arm. Mark hopes that every kiss he drops over the scar washes away the bad memories that come with it. A foolish thought, maybe, but Mark thinks it helps in getting Renjun to be at peace with himself again.

“Do you want to run away?” Renjun hums, his eyes still watching the tracks.

“Where to?” Mark muses, watching the side of Renjun’s face.

“I don’t know,” Renjun exhales deeply. His eyes flit up to the sky. “To space, maybe. They don’t hold the games outer space.”

“There’s no oxygen in outer space too.”

Renjun reaches for Mark’s hand running down his arm, lets the heat of their palms kiss. “Would you run away with me if I asked you to?”

“What do I have to lose?” Mark answers easily. “I have nothing else other than you, you know that.”

Renjun snuggles closer and Mark separates their hands in favour of tracing the shape of Renjun’s jaw. “Do you think the world would ever be better?”

“It can’t get any worse than this, can it?” Mark laughs. But Renjun isn’t laughing, he’s biting his lower lip and his brows are knitted together. Renjun’s always thinking too much. “I think,” Mark says with a harmless sigh, “we just have to embrace and celebrate the tomorrows that turn out to be better than the todays.”

In a world as ruined as theirs, there’s so much hope in the smallest of happiness, so much happiness in the simplest of things. It gets tiring if one keeps waiting for a big change. They know better than to wish and imagine a life they can never have. A slightly better tomorrow - better weather, flowers starting to bud in the gardens, another peaceful night - those are what they can learn to appreciate and enjoy in a world so unkind.

Renjun nods and closes his eyes. “I think I can try to live with that.”

Mark pushes Renjun’s hair back and lets a kiss linger at his forehead. He tucks Renjun under his chin and wraps his arms around him.

In this bleak world with their ugly twisted fates, they’ll find their own little peace within each other.

**Author's Note:**

> this is what happens when you miss markren and rewatch the hunger games.  
> A comment means more to writers than you think :)  
> Happy birthday Mark Lee!! 
> 
> [twt](https://twitter.com/hapatakup) [cc](https://curiouscat.me/subaks)


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